


Crumbling

by coley1001



Series: Descent into the Darkness [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 09:10:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10636776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coley1001/pseuds/coley1001





	

It only took the strike team an hour to return to base, forlorn at the loss of their doctor. Angela’s staff had done its work on Fareeha. They had kept it on her as long as the charge lasted and its miraculous abilities knit the torn flesh back together, until it was as if Fareeha had never been shot in the side. However, each member was silent, the loss of the team’s doctor having taken all energy from the room. When they returned to Gibraltar, the depth of Sombra’s machinations were apparent. All the doors to the facility were open and the security systems disabled. 

Winston growled. “Reinhardt, help Lena and Fareeha back to their rooms.” He said, intending to see the extent of the damage. Reinhardt nodded, and Winston plunged into the ravaged facility. He first went to the mainframe. As he had feared, it had been destroyed and the hard drives embedded in it stolen. He could only pray that the encryption was enough to stop the hard drives use, but doubted that there was much that could stand up to Sombra’s technological prowess. He next went to the medical bay. It had been pillaged, though not nearly to the same extent. Sombra had focused on the doctor’s work with the Valkyrie suit, suggesting that the primary objective of the Talon operation was abducting the doctor while causing as much collateral damage as possible. It was a disturbing prospect and one Winston preferred not to bode on. The next stop was the armory. It had housed a spare tesla cannon and extra parts for Lena’s accelerator, along with other equipment important to the team. Notably a pulse rifle had been stolen from the armory only a few weeks prior. Now the armory was in shambles. Sombra had found some thermite tucked away and used it to destroy everything she could find. Perhaps there was some supplies that could be salvaged, but as of now there didn’t seem to be much that could be done. 

Winston returned to his room and flopped onto the bed. Tomorrow would be a long day. No doubt Overwatch would have to change its base of operations. He also wanted to start searching for Angela as soon as possible. A small part of him wished that Angela had been killed rather than captured. 

 

Beijing, China; January 14, 2077; 0900 Hours  
Reaper strolled through the Talon facility basement. He stopped in front of the cell they had stored their angel in. Angela was curled up against the cement wall, facing away. She was coated in a layer of dirt and dried blood. Several cuts were obvious along her arms and on her cheeks, and her eyes had a distant look about them. At first, she had been defiant, shouting obscenities that surprised even the talon agents. She had fought tooth and nail, and had even managed to partially blind a particularly unfortunate Talon agent. As days turned to weeks however, they had tempered her temper and broken her down, slowly and methodically, hollowing her into a shell of a woman.

Despite the torture, she had not completely broken. She had yet to reveal any information regarding Overwatch, and had earned Reapers begrudging respect at the woman’s sheer determination. He opened her cell and grabbed her by the back of her neck. “Ready to talk?” He growled. She didn’t even respond, simply remaining limp. She felt incredibly light, especially compared to when he had first kidnapped her. “I figured as much. Well, my superiors have decided they are tired of waiting for you to talk. So we are going to go ahead with plan B.” He said. For a moment Angela’s eyes returned to their former selves, a hint of life still in her. She looked into the twin holes of reapers mask, her confusion and fear obvious. He just chuckled cruelly. “Widow said it was like being flayed alive.” He pushed a syringe into her arm and pressed down on the plunger. Everything went black. In the next 10 hours, Angela Ziegler died.

 

Cario, Egypt; March 2, 2077; 1200 Hours  
Fareeha sat in the back of the transport vessel, Winston and Lena across from her. She ran her finger over one of the eyes on the helmet of her Raptora suit. Her own eyes were half lidded, and it was only after her name was called several times that she looked up. “Uh, yeah?” She asked softly.

“You’ll be provided air cover for Lena while she ambushes the truck.” Winston says, a bit disturbed by Fareeha’s lack of attentiveness. “Just make sure to keep an eye out for any Talon forces and delay them if you can.”  
“Yeah, of course.” Fareeha said, falling silent once again and returning her gaze to the helmet, her reflection just barely visible in the yellow eye of it. Rather than the royal blue coloration it had been before, the suit had been changed to a stark black. It was a sign of mourning for the late doctor Ziegler. 

Overwatch agents had been scouring their contacts for any sign of Angela. Several raids on Talon bases had been conducted, but each had turned up nothing substantial. There had been no news about Angela for a few weeks now. They all knew that it meant she had been executed. Winston had kept the search alive for a while, if only for Fareeha’s sake, but enough was enough. Three days ago he had finally ended the search, much to Fareeha’s protests. She was unable to persuade him to a different course of action, however. 

Fareeha was numbly aware of the transport coming to a halt. She stood and followed her fellow agents out of the truck, and placed her helmet over her head. It was a comfort to feel its familiar weight on her head. Without a word to either of her teammates, she flew up into the air towards a nearby building to watch over the proceedings. 

Lena looked at Winston, a bit disturbed. “She shouldn’t be in combat. Not while she’s like this.” She says. “There’s still time to pull the operation.”

Winston snorted in frustration. “Lena, we can’t allow Talon any room. Part of the reason I called off the search is because we need to devote more resources to stopping Talon. They’ve been growing these past few months, and there’re rumors they’ve recruited a new high caliber agent. I know Fareeha has been struggling, but we can’t afford to allow Talon to grow any more than it already has. Hopefully some of the recruitment messages I sent out will be successful so we can give her time off, but until then, she will simply have to set aside her grief.” He said. He hated the harsh stance he needed to take, but it was the only course he could think to take.

Lena, still doubtful, nodded and blinked away towards the truck, heading to the intercept location. Winston returned to the transport truck to coordinate the operation. 

Pharah readjusted her grip on her rocket launcher, taking up the proper firing position. She fired a single rocket, leading the target truck on. It hit the hood of the truck just as she intended, and the truck shuddered to a halt. She stood up and watched the area for any Talon reinforcements. 

Tracer blinked out of cover as she heard the loud crash of the rocket. A few shots through the windshield took care of the drivers. She went to the back of the truck and shot the locks off the doors. Pharah’s voice chirped through her communicator in her ear “We have several Talon agents approaching from the west.” Tracer opened the doors of the truck, working quickly. Inside were several large crates, presumably filled with weapons. More disturbingly however, was the prototype Valkyrie suit hanging on a rack inside. Tracer mouth went dry. She wasn’t certain what the reproduction meant, but it was not good. 

After a moment’s hesitation, she grabbed the prototype and blinked away. “Pharah, blow the truck.” She called through her communicator. 

“Pharah is out of communication. I think she removed her communicator.” Winston said, typing rapidly at the keyboard in front of him. In the distance the two could hear explosions. “From what I can tell, she engaged the Talon forces.” Another explosion, followed by screams. “She can handle herself Tracer. Use one of your pulse bomb to destroy the weapons, then get back here ASAP.” Winston ordered. 

Lena did as he bid, and the truck was soon little more than a heap of broken metal. The explosions in the distance had stopped by the time Lena boarded the transport. She set the suit aside and looked over Winston’s broad shoulder. “Is Fareeha alright?” She asked. The idea of losing another agent was appalling to her. 

“She won.” Winston said simply. 

A few minutes later Pharah entered the transport. There was soot, dirt, and blood smeared on her armor, what looked like a bloody handprint on the helmet of her raptora suit. She ignored the subdued horror on Lena and Winston’s faces, and merely took her seat, not even bothering to remove her helmet. After a few moments, Lena got into the driver’s seat and drove the transport away from the scene. Finally Fareeha removed her helmet, taking a deep breath as she did so. The heat of battle was gone and the numbness of life was seeping back in. She saw the prototype Valkyrie suit that Lena had retrieved. The numbness that had threatened her only moments before receded to be replaced with rage. Rage that Talon dare attempt to pervert the works of Angela. Rage that they would attempt to turn what was good to that which is evil. “Stop the truck.” She said sharply, looking at Lena. Lena did as she bid. The tone in Fareeha’s voice offered little alternative. Fareeha grabbed the suit and dragged it out of the truck into the road. She tossed it away. 

“Fareeha what are you doing?” Winston asked softly. Fareeha shouldered her rocket launcher, aimed at the suit. “Fareeha, no!” Winston shouted. It was too late. The rocket was shot and it hit with perfect accuracy. The suit was shredded, irreparably broken.  
Amari looked back at Winston and Lena, both of whom looked on in horror. She wordlessly walked back to the transport and grabbed her helmet, still streaked with blood. She set it atop her head. “I’m going to find Angela.” She said. Even finding a grave bearing the woman’s name would be acceptable, so long as she received the closure she needed. “Then I’m going to kill Reaper.” She turned to the sky and launched herself into the air.


End file.
